


The Thing About Archangels

by Thisisarealtagwhy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angels, Angels Are Watching Over You, Apocalypse Prevented, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Gabriel, Sam figures it out, Season/Series 4 elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 03:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13449978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thisisarealtagwhy/pseuds/Thisisarealtagwhy
Summary: Dean is dead, dead,dead. And permanently this time too, Sam doesn't know why the trickster didn't die the first time but what if...What if the Trickster wasn't really a trickster, but something far older.(AU of 'Mystery Spot' in which Sam figures outwhatthe Trickster is)





	The Thing About Archangels

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to give a warm thank you to my beta for editing my work despite having never seen supernatural before, [MasterQwertster](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4817237/MasterQwertster) on fanfiction.net, you can get to her profile by hitting her username : ) 
> 
> Anyway, i did post this on my other account which i have hereby deleted because i decided why do i need two accounts? BUT, this is the heavily edited version in which i changed a few things, and added some things. I hope yall enjoy!

This, it’s tiring, in a way that Sam hasn’t felt since he realised that his Dad told Dean to _kill_ him.

And maybe it’s because Dean is _dying_ and _dying_ and _dying_ and there ain’t a damn thing he can do to stop it.

Sure, it’s been years since he’s lived a _real_ day.

“Nothing in this damn universe changes, _ever_ , so how come he’s changing his routine now?” He asks rhetorically, even as Dean tries to convince him otherwise. He wakes to Asia once more, but this, well, it’s different, and he knows it.

Something big is _going_ down.

Cornering the trickster isn’t his finest idea, but neither is letting him get away.

“Sorry bucko, can’t let you do that.” And he wakes to ‘Back in Time’ and prays somewhere deep in his heart that it’s over.

And then… it’s Wednesday and Dean still becomes dead but this time… it’s permanent in a way that he’s been trying to avoid ever since he was told that the monsters in his closet were in fact supernatural.

“Thank you, ma’am.” He says in his deadened, polite tone as she tells him a little about the massive vamp nest just a few miles up through the woodland.

 And when he isn’t hunting things, he’s collecting information on the ‘Trickster’, sorting it to _try_ and find him, and then drive a stake through his heart.

Except… what he finds is much more interesting, it’s almost like the Trickster _isn’t_ a trickster, the energy is dissimilar to others he’s seen before.

What if…?

He’s believed in angels since his mother burned on the ceiling, maybe they were just too busy to help him or his family, which sucks, but he can’t blame them.

So, the question is, what is the Trickster truly?

His wall is posted full of theories, questions, and finally, readings. He watches miniscule temperature changes where the Trickster was sighted and correlates it to high demonic activity.

But there are other locations in the world where the temperature has drastically risen, wherein the weather has been cleared and miracles have occurred.

He’s sifting through the lore on angels (holy hell there’s a _ton_ ) when he finds it, a true godamn prophecy. It’s not much, for all it specifies is that _he_ is the one who ran away. It’s a weird little book, not a bible, but not a fictional book either. It almost seems like it’s been hand-written.

There’s no author either and the woman that’s been writing it has been deep in hiding for _years._ Sam tracks her down, Anna, and somehow gets a handful more of questions.

“So, Anna, how long have you been dreaming of angels?” He asks, he’s come here in the guise of a publisher, interested in her stories.

“I only sometimes dream of the angels, with their holiness washing over me.” She says, her face taken over by a dream-like trance. “I can hear them and by the grace of God they are angry, they’ve been mad at ‘time-loops’ and ‘meddling of damned pagans’.”

He frowns, “So, they’ve been angered by a time loop?”

“Yes, the righteous man, determined from birth to die for his brother, is dead, and they will not stand for it. But, they’ve almost all been blocked from the little pocket of space we’re in for now, Sam.”

“How do you know my name?” He distinctly remembers giving her a fake name.

“I knew who you were states away, you seek retribution, correct?”

“Of course.” He says, knowing that there’s no way to get around it now that she _knows,_ and that according to her, angels are _real._

Now, how to kill the holiest of holiness.

“What you are going to want to do is burn him like crispy fried chicken, holy oil is the way to go.” Anna explains, looking through the window. “I bid you luck and farewell on your journey, Sam. I suspect that we will meet again, not that I will remember this encounter, _he’s_ coming.”

He hates the damn pronoun game, but whatever. Whoever _‘he’_ is, he’s probably not friendly.

So he leaves the fiery girl to her fate and begins his quest. It’s surprisingly easy to accept that angels are real.

It starts with holy oil. Finding that is surprisingly easy. He also guesses that the _angels_ have a way of killing each other, not like _he’d_ be able to use that kind of weapon.

So holy oil it is, the question now is, is he willing to saturate an angel and deep fry it to get Dean back?

The answer is unsurprisingly no. He _cannot_ taint himself further.

So how to contain the bastard?

“I wonder…” If holy oil works to burn them to _hell,_ it would stand to reason that a ring of fire would contain that grace.

He’s given up on the eventuality that Dean will return, they’d both join each other on that damned Wednesday. _If_ he manages to capture the Trickster, or rather, the angel, then there’s a high chance that everything will go to hell.  

He doubts that after all this time, that the angel would allow him to leave without divine retribution, he’s already an abomination, but maybe… maybe the angel will purge him of that unholiness.

So, he drives, hunts on the way, writing down the hunts he’s completed, a set ready for either him or Dean to hunt if time ticks back to Wednesday.

When he reaches what he has dubbed as ‘the place it all began,’ seeing Bobby in the flesh is not enough to warm his deadened soul.

Nor is the hug that encircles him because _Bobby_ is the only one he can call family now, and _Dean._

Gone like a whisper of the breeze, torn away and thrown to the wolves of perdition.

But it’s okay, it’s _fine fine fine,_ because that isn’t Bobby, and the oil surrounding the Trickster is holy.

“So, how to summon the Trickster?” He asks.

“I have a spell that _might_ work.” The angel says, “But it requires blood, a lot of it, and it’s gotta be fresh.”

“Meaning we have to bleed someone dry.” He finishes, he wonders whether the spell would actually work, or if the angel is trying to fuck with him… Given his current predicament he suspects the latter.

He begins moving to the door and at the point that he hears Bobby start after him spouting words of ‘how much he’s changed’, he lights the oil.

“What is this?” The angel keeps up its’ façade.

“I’m sure you know what it is.” Sam says levelly.

And Bobby is disappearing, replaced by the face of the Trickster, the so called ‘Loki’. “Sammy, I didn’t think you had it in you! How did you figure it out?”

“I knew you weren’t Bobby the moment you touched me, you have a different aura to him.” Sam says.

The Trickster smiles smugly, “Now, why did you think trapping me in a burning ring of fire would work Sam-I-am?”

“Maybe it’s because you’re not actually a pagan deity.” Sam says tiredly.

The Tricksters’ smile slides off of his face in one swift movement, “And what do you mean by that?”

“I think you know _exactly_ what I mean by that.” Sam all but growls. “I thought angels were supposed to be good, not pretending to be pagan.”

“I think you’ve had a few too many screws knocked loose Samuel, I ain’t no angel.” The Trickster says with a deathly tone.

“Prove me wrong then, walk right on over here.” He challenges, watching in grim satisfaction as the Trickster growls at him.

“How did you figure it out? How the hell do you even _know_ about angels?” The angel growls.

Sam shrugs, “I had a lot of time to think it over. You probably didn’t even realise it, but I managed to find an entire book prophesising the fucking _apocalypse._ _And,_ I met a very _interesting_ woman who claimed to hear the angels whispering. Well, she was extremely helpful and _knew_ things, so I took her to be legitimate.”

“Dammit, I forgot about _that one._ So, you met Anna huh? Very nice. She’s not who she says she is, but I bet you figured that out.” The angel says, “I bet you’re so pleased with yourself, that you figured out my _gig._ ”

Sam shrugs, “I just want my brother back.”

Sam misses the way the warm whiskey eyes soften imperceptibly, “Well, bucko, it seems you still have _missed_ the entire purpose of this little lesson.”

“Lesson?”

“Mhm, you’re gonna have to live without Dean when he goes to hell, and you are _so_ not ready for it. This is just to prepare you.” The angel says.

“But why does he _have_ to die?”

“You read the book didn’t you? The whole ‘prophecy’ ‘ _when the righteous man spills blood in hell, then so shalt the first seal be broken’._ Well, the purpose is to break out one of my brethren, so Deano is supposed to start torturing people.”

“So, what angel are you then?” Sam sits down. He’s suddenly so _tired,_ angels exist, the _apocalypse_ is going to happen, and Dean is still no closer to being alive.

“The name’s Gabriel.” The newly named Gabriel says plainly.

“As in God’s messenger?” Sam is familiar with that name. In most beliefs that worship one ‘God’, Gabriel is mentioned, either in passing or several times.

“You got it bucko.”

“So, why’d you leave?”

Gabriel looks like he’s not going to respond before he sighs, as tired as Sam and says, “Because what my brothers became after Lucifer was kicked out of heaven… it was too much.”

They lapse into an uncomfortable silence, the flickering flames breathing between the two. “So, Samuel, what happens from here?”

“You take me back and I won’t light you up.” Sam says simply.

Gabriel nods like he already expected that, “Word of advice kiddo, if you care to prevent the apocalypse after Dean’s death, I recommend that you remain away from the demon known as Ruby. And don’t trust the other angels, they’re dicks. I won’t stick around, I’ve hidden for far too long to be welcomed with open arms into heaven again.”

Sam sighs. “Yeah, okay, if it gets you to bring him back temporarily. So, do I need to put out the holy oil before you can do your… magic?”

Gabriel snorts, “Grace, you numbskull, and yeah, put out the oil first.”

He doesn’t know why his feet take him to the emergency bucket of water he stashed, or why he pours it onto the fire. With a flutter of what he presumes is wings, they’re suddenly back on that accursed Wednesday and Dean… well, he’s alive isn’t he?

“Dean!”

“Woah, Sammy!” Dean put his hands up regardless encircling his brother.

“I’m so glad you’re alright! Wait, what do you remember?” He pulls back, looking intently at his brother.

“Well, I remember the confrontation with the Trickster and then you seemed pretty out of it, so I took us back here.” He frowns, “Are you okay?”

“I’m great, better than great!” And he really is, he hadn’t expected to feel so energetic after spending so long stuck in a time loop. How long has it really been since he could hug his brother? Since he didn’t have to worry about Dean accidentally suffocating to death?

They have a lot to talk about though, angels are real! And according to Gabriel, a freaking _archangel,_ they’re all dicks. That’s a little disappointing, but he hopes to meet one, some-day.

“Why are you so happy?” Dean asks a little curiously.

“Just found something out hidden in the lore.” He says happily.

Then remembering Kell he watches the parking lot until the looming figure retreats, that’s when he deems it safe and practically hauls his brother out into the parking lot.

***

When Dean is dragged off to hell, there are tears, many of them, but he also can’t help but remember Gabriel. It kind of feels safer now that he knows there are angels truly watching over them.

But it’s also why he rejects all of Ruby’s advances, _especially_ when she finds herself a ‘brain-dead vessel’ for him.

He’s not going to lie, exorcising demons with his mind sounds like something that would save many people, but demon blood? He can’t.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just drink it!” Ruby says, all harsh, nails and fierceness.

He does the thing that’s been itching at the back of his head for a long time and _drives_ the demon blade straight into her heart.

She flickers, a grotesque orange, eyes and mouth open in betrayal before falling to the ground. He wipes his chin, “Should have done that a _long_ time ago.”

Then he calls Bobby, he thinks it’s time to go back to his father figure and just… relax. Maybe take on a hunt every now and again.

***

Gabriel simmers in the void in between, he’s been _so careful_ to not use the grace brimming inside of himself, instead he relies on the powers invested in him by Odin, Allfather of the Cosmos.

It’s nothing personal to his own father, but he’s been kind of absent.

There’s not even anything wrong with pagan deities. Hell, even the three sisters of fate are fun to get along with if you know what he means.

He guesses he should keep an eye on Samuel Winchester though.

He doesn’t understand why he wants to make sure the kid’s safe, but like, he’s just so tired of everything, the whole plan to end the world, to make the party stop. Fuck that.

When Sam kills Ruby, he silently parties in his little spot of the world. That means that there’s no-one to encourage the boy to drink demon blood!

And hey, that could lead to the last seal _not_ being broken.

Because if Sam doesn’t drink an _abysmal_ amount of blood, he can’t kill Lilith, and if Lilith isn’t killed then… the apocalypse is averted.

He’s not stupid nor naive though, Michael and Raphael will certainly approach with a different method if the breaking of the seals does not work.

So, with a heavy heart, on wings that have not been stretched for a millennium, he flies into heaven.

When he arrives, the Seraphs all bow their heads to the archangel. It’s unnerving that after so much time absent, he’s able to just _walk right in._

Unfortunately, it’s not completely smooth sailing when he reaches what used to be known in much more ‘proper’ terms as the leisure area.

Commanding 10,000 angels or more is Michael, and _Dad_ has it been so long since he saw his older brother. “Gabriel!” Michael booms in his deepened voice.

“Mikey, it’s been too long.” He says in reply, using words he has not uttered in as long as his wings have not been stretched.

“Gabriel.” He is not as enthusiastic at his arrival. “What brings you to heaven after so long an absence?”

“One man I suppose.” He says truthfully. “I don’t want the apocalypse to happen, I don’t want to see you and Luci kill each other.”

Michael sighs, “You do not have a choice brother, God has foretold it will happen thus it shalt be true.”

“You know as well as I do that Dad is no longer in the building.” Hearing the garrisons of fighters begin to whisper amongst themselves, Michael directs him back into his office, Raphael following as an afterthought.

“Rapphy, looking as solemn as ever.” He nods at his other brother.

The healer Raphael merely nods in response. “Just because father is no longer in heaven, does not mean that his word is not true.”

“Well, in some cases, but in this one… Look, all I’m saying is that it’s not even likely that Samuel Winchester will break the last seal.” Gabriel says, placing his hands out in a placating manner.

“And why is this so?” Raphael inquires.

“Welllll… he might have figured out who I am and when he realised _what_ I am, he had questions, and given my stance on the whole apocalypse, I told him.” Gabriel says in one rush.

“You told Lucifer’s vessel what his role will be?” Michael asks, voice dangerously soft despite the jaggedness of enochian.

He winces, “No, not really, I simply told him not to trust the demon.”

“This will lead to the prevention of the apocalypse, brother, what of Father’s plan?” Raphael asks.

“I don’t want to see you all fight any more!” He exclaims. “I waited a _millennium_ for you and Luci to make up and when you didn’t, Rapphy, you retreated and Michael, you just became _so_ much angrier and I couldn’t! I’d already seen one brother banished because of his pig-headed-ness, my family was being ripped apart! So, I left. Joined the pagans.”

Gabriel closes his eyes as Michael and Raphael exchange a glance, moving forward swiftly towards him. He won’t fight it if they want to execute him, he’d prefer it now rather than after when the apocalypse is truly at hand.

It’s why he’s surprised when instead of burning, he is encased in two sets of arms, two sets of graces burning in a gentle manner alongside his own. “I’m sorry, _Gabriel,_ I never expected you to be so upset.” Michael soothes.

“Everything became worse without your jokes and laughs, brother.” Raphael says smoothly. “We all forgot our true purpose and instead began to manipulate blood-lines, preparing the seals to be broken.”

“And Father has not been around to issue orders for a few millennia, return to us, brother.” Michael says, and Gabriel feels tears burning at the back of his vessel’s throat.

“I don’t know what…”

“It’s okay brother.” Raphael soothes again, and he feels himself melt into their graces.

“We have much to repair, much to plan. I suggest we get started with the troops preparing to take Dean Winchesters’ soul back from perdition.” Michael says.

“So, is he to be resurrected?” He asks, just to be sure.

Raphael sighs before smiling, it’s not as full of life as it was before Luci took the mark, but it’s beginning to get there, “If it were not for our manipulation, the righteous man would not have ended up in hell. I think it prudent to save a soul from an eternal life of suffering.”

“Agreed, we shall still send in Castiel and his garrison.” Michael says, and without another word, they turn on heel and stride out of the office.

When Castiel is sent down into the very depths of hell, Gabriel is beside him, Michael and Raphael sorting out the mess in heaven now that the official apocalypse plan is off.

Although, Gabriel thinks he prefers it to the hell that would have become heaven if Luci and Michael truly did have their show-down.

He sees Samuel Winchester frequently now, it’s kind of become their thing, and slowly, he finds himself quite literally falling for a human, but not in the way you might expect.

He loves Sam more than a brother, he’d go right through Aunty Amara for him.

Which is problematic on several levels.

Because one day, Sam will draw his final breath, and Dad knows how fragile humans are. And he will be left alone, because even if he travels to heaven for him, he knows that the little human heavens are just as fragile as humans are.

He just can’t bear to part with the Winchesters, hell, even Bobby has grown on him, like a fungus.

And he knows that he isn’t the only one, freaking _Michael_ and _Raphael_ have expressed in many words that they would go to great lengths to protect the two despite wanting to destroy them not so long ago…

Cas is probably feeling the same way about the pair if the extended stay on earth is any kind of a hint.

“Sam, I hope that you aren’t researching the cage again.” He admonishes, watching as _his_ hunter reads through thick tomes.

Sam hums, “Well, I want to see whether there’s any way for him to escape.”

He feels an inexplicable hum of love flutter through him that Sam would attempt to bring Luci back for him. “You don’t have to.”

“Gabriel, I don’t recall Lucifer much before his fall, can you enlighten me?” Castiel, the curious angel he is, asks.

He and Dean are sitting in the junk-car yard of Bobby Singer, both sipping beer, Castiel looking like he doesn’t _quite_ understand why he’s drinking something that tastes like molecules.

Gabriel has to remember to _taste_ what he is drinking or eating.

Feeling laughter race through him, he recalls his older brother who would quite often help him play pranks on Raphael and Michael.

He tells them of Lucifer, the light-bringer before he was cast down into the cage to live by himself for eternity.

Of Raphael, ever careful to begin the creation of heaven, alongside the three other archangels and, naturally, God.

He tells them of a time before the earth was created, when Aunty Amara and Father would fight over the smallest things. How Dad created ‘ _the_ mark’ and branded Lucifer with it because he was the most trusted of the four archangels.

How the mark corrupted Lucifer and eventually he became too bitter, too full of darkness.

Heaven was much fuller then, filled to the brim with seraph’s and garrisons upon garrisons of angels.

They were all taught to fight by Michael, taught how to heal and _know_ everything by Raphael, Gabriel taught them (or tried to at least) how to have fun and Lucifer taught them of free will.

Of course, free will was frowned upon then, thus Lucifer’s teachings were fruitless.

Gabriel was still God’s messenger to humans on Earth, and how they worshipped him so.

But, first and foremost, he was their brother, the fun archangel. Not to say that Michael didn’t sometimes enjoy helping him prank the younger angels.

After Luci was cast out of heaven though, it got harder and harder to prank and pretend that everything was okay. Luci was probably his closest brother.

So, when the fledglings were beginning to fly, he took permanent flight to Earth and stayed there, blending in amongst the pagans.

“Gabriel…”

He wipes his eyes surreptitiously, “But I guess it’s better now that Mikey, Rapphy, and I are on speaking terms, and apocalypse averted, so yay!”

Dean shakes his head, “I still can’t believe you managed to figure out that the _trickster_ of all creatures was a freaking angel.”

Sam shrinks in on himself a little, “It took me a while but yeah.”

“It’s admirable what you have become, brother.” Castiel says, awe colouring his gruff tone.

“I suppose so.”

Later that night Gabriel and Sam find themselves sitting on Singer auto-repairs’ roof, drinking more beer and staring at the stars.

Sam takes a swig before saying, “Y’know, this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t told me to gank Ruby, or killed Dean so many times.”

Gabriel side-eyes him, “What’s your point Sam?”

“I just wanted to say thank you. I know it probably wasn’t easy to single-handedly avert the apocalypse. And…” He takes a deep breath, “thank you for bringing back Dean.”

“No problem, Sam.” Sam’s warm hand grasps his and he smiles easily at the effortless love between the pair.

Sam watches him with those warm, inviting eyes, as warm as the cosmos, watching him with unadulterated love.

Sam leans over and kisses him, warm and oh so human. Gabriel knows that one day Samuel will perish along with all humans, but, for the moment, they could be one.

So, he kisses him back, feeling his grace twist inside of him, bonding to this fragile and yet so strong soul.

“Is this okay?” Sam asks, hand buried in Gabriels’ hair, breathing heavily.

Gabriel smiles into his lips and kisses him some more.  

They stay up there all night, looking at the stars lighting up the sky, basking in the warmth of the alcohol and the grace Gabriel uses to keep Sam from catching hypothermia.

It may never be okay, the way that Samuel makes him feel, but hey, he would storm heaven for this human so maybe it doesn’t _have_ to be okay.


End file.
